the blessing of God, it shall be my dying sentiment independence now, and INDEPENDENCE FOREVER.

DANIEL WEBSTER.

Daniel Webster, one of America's greatest orators, was born in Salisbury, New Hampshire, in January, 1782, and died in October, 1852. His life was devoted, with but slight interruption, to the practice of law, in which his great talent shone pre-eminent, and to the service of his country. Besides many years passed, with high renown, as Representative and Senator to Congress from Massachusetts, he was twice called to the Cabinet as Secretary of State. In reputation he stands peerless in history as the Constitutional Lawyer and Orator of America.

Our Lesson is taken from a speech upon the life and character of John Adams, delivered by Webster. He imagines that some one has opposed the Declaration of Independence while its adoption was being urged in the Continental Congress, and makes Adams, who was the ardent champion of the measure, answer the objections. “There's a divinity that shapes our ends" (1) is a quotation from Shakespeare's play of "Hamlet." You, sir," (2) refers to John

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Hancock, President of the Continental Congress; and "venerable colleague," (2) to Samuel Adams.

LESSON XXVII.

1. gǎl'ley; n. a vessel with one deck, often rowed by slaves or prisoners.

4. fùr' rowed; a. cut into grooves by a plough.

5. be sought'; v. begged.

5. qu&ffed (kwȧft); v. drank.
6. eŎt'ter; n. one who lives in
a cottage.

6. de fault'; n. failure.

7. prof' fered; a. offered.

9. hied; v. hastened.

The Galley Slave.

1. There lived in France, in days not long now dead, A farmer's sons, twin brothers, like in face;

And one was taken in the other's stead

For a small theft, and sentenced in disgrace
To serve for years a hated galley slave-
Yet said no word, his prized good name to save.

2. Trusting remoter days would be more blessed,
He set his will to wear the verdict out,
And knew most men are prisoners at best

Who some strong habit ever drag about,
Like chain and ball; then meekly prayed that he
Rather the prisoner he was should be.

3. But best resolves are of such feeble thread, They may be broken in temptation's hands. After long toil the guiltless prisoner said:

Why should I thus, and feel life's precious sands The narrow of my glass, the present, run, For a poor crime that I have never done?

4. Such questions are like cups, and hold reply;

For when the chance swung wide the prisoner fled, And gained the country road, and hastened by

Brown furrowed fields and skipping brooklets, fed By shepherd clouds, and felt 'neath sapful trees The soft hand of the mesmerizing breeze.

5. Then, all that long day having eaten naught,
He at a cottage stopped, and of the wife
A brimming bowl of fragrant milk besought.
She gave it him; but as he quaffed the life,
Down her kind face he saw a single tear
Pursue its wet and sorrowful career.

6. Within the cot he now beheld a man

And maiden, also weeping. "Speak," said he, "And tell me of your grief; for if I can,

I will disroot the sad, tear-fruited tree." The cotter answered: "In default of rent, We shall to-morrow from this roof be sent."

7. Then said the galley slave: "Whoso returns
A prisoner escaped may feel the spur
To a right action, and deserves and earns
Proffered reward. I am a prisoner !

Bind these my arms, and drive me back my way,
That your reward the price of home may pay."

8. Against his wish the cotter gave consent,

And at the prison-gate received his fee,
Though some made it a thing for wonderment
That one so sickly and infirm as he,

When stronger would have dared not to attack,
Could capture this bold youth and bring him back.

9. Straightway the cotter to the mayor hied,

And told him all the story; and that lord
Was much affected, dropping gold beside
The pursed sufficient silver of reward;
Then wrote his letter in authority,
Asking to set the noble prisoner free.

10. There is no nobler, better life on earth

Than that of conscious, meek self-sacrifice.
Such life Our Saviour, in His lowly birth
And holy work, made His sublime disguise—
Teaching this truth, still rarely understood:
'Tis sweet to suffer for another's good.

Explain the expressions:

HENRY ABBEY.

one was taken in the other's stead" (1); "Why should I thus" (3); "I will disroot the sad, tear-fruited

tree" (6).

Paraphrase the second and the fourth stanza.

What does this poem teach us?

1. Till he has fairly tried it, I suspect a reader does not know how much he would gain from committing to memory passages of real excellence, precisely because he does not know how much he overlooks when merely reading. Learn one true poem by heart, and see if you do not find it so. Beauty after beauty will reveal itself, in chosen phrase, or happy music, or noble suggestion, otherwise undreamed of. It is like looking at one of Nature's wonders through a microscope.

2. Again how much in such a poem that you really did feel admirable and lovely on a first reading passes away if you do not give it a further and much better reading!-passes away utterly, like a sweet sound, or an image on the lake, which the first breath of wind dispels. If you could only fix that image, as the photographers do theirs, so beautifully, so perfectly! And you can do so! Learn it by heart, and it is yours forever!

3. It is not difficult or toilsome to learn that which pleases us; and the labor, once given, is forgotten, while the result remains. Poems, and noble extracts, whether of verse or of prose, once so reduced into possession and rendered truly our own, may be to us a daily pleasure ;— better far than a whole library unused. They may come to us in our dull moments, to refresh us as with spring flowers; in our selfish musings, to win us by pure delight

from the tyranny of foolish castle-building, self-gratulations, and mean anxieties. They may be with us in the workshop, in the crowded street, by the fireside; sometimes, perhaps, on pleasant hillsides, or by sounding shores;-noble friends and companions-our own! never intrusive, ever at hand, coming at our call!

4. Shakespeare, Milton, Wordsworth, Tennyson,-the words of such men do not stale upon us, they do not grow old or cold. Further: though you are young now, some day you may be old. Some day you may reach that time when a man lives in great part for memory and by memory. I can imagine a chance renewal, a chance visitation, of the words long remembered, long garnered in the heart, and I think I see a gleam of rare joy in the eyes of the old

man.

5. For those, in particular, whose leisure time is short, and precious as scant rations to beleaguered men, I believe there could not be a better expenditure of time than deliberately giving an occasional hour-it requires no more -to committing to memory chosen passages from great authors. If the mind were thus daily nourished with a few choice words of the best English poets and writers; if the habit of learning by heart were to become so general that, as a matter of course, any person presuming to be educated might be expected to be equipped with a few good pieces, I believe that it would lead, much more than the mere sound of it suggests, to the diffusion of the best kind of literature, and to the right appreciation of it; and that men would not long rest satisfied with knowing a few stock pieces.

6. Learning by heart is a good thing, and it is neglected among us. Why is it neglected? Partly because of our indolence; but partly, I believe, because we do not